"DANCING QUEEN，" Sara Linton mumbled with the music as she made<br > her way around the skating rink. "Young and sweet， only seventeen."<br > She heard a furious clicking of wheels to her left and turned just in<br > time to catch a small child before he crashed into her.<br > "Justin?" she asked， recognizing the seven year old. She held him up<br > by the back of his shirt as his ankles wobbled over his in-line skates.<br > "Hey， Dr. Linton，" Justin managed around gasps for breath. His hel-<br > met was too big for his head， and he pushed it back several times as he<br > tried to look up at her.<br > Sara returned his smile， trying not to laugh. "Hello， Justin."<br > "I guess you like this music， huh? My morn likes it， too." He stared at<br > her openly， his lips slightly parted. Like most of Sara s patients， Justin<br > seemed a bit shocked to see her outside of the clinic. Sometimes she won-<br >dered if they thought she lived in the basement there， waiting for them to<br >get colds or fevers so she could see them.<br > "Anyway，" Justin pushed back his helmet again， knocking himself in<br >the nose with his elbow pad. "I saw you singing it."<br > "Here，" Sara offered， leaning down to adjust the chin strap. The music<br >in the rink was so loud that Sara could feel the bass vibrating through the<br >plastic buckle as she tightened it under l~is cir.<br > "Thanks，" Justin yelled， then for some reib~on he put both his hands on<br >top of the helmet， as if to rest them. The motion threw him off balance，<br >and he stumbled， clamping on to Sara s leg.<br ><br >
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